


Welcome Back

by snapdragon76



Series: Aftermath [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: DC Comics Rebirth, Dick Grayson Has A Clone, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Emotional Healing, Gen, His Name Is Richie, It Makes Sense in Context, Memory Loss, New 52, Ric Grayson Fix-It, Talking, Two Men Actually Sharing Feelings OMG, Two Richard Grayson's For The Price Of One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-18 00:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21868882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snapdragon76/pseuds/snapdragon76
Summary: Dick Grayson has a heart to heart. With... himself?Post-Ric Grayson.
Relationships: Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson - Mentioned
Series: Aftermath [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566820
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Welcome Back

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! I finished this faster than I thought, so I figured I'd post it. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I came up with a clone for Dick. The idea sprung from the show 'Gotham' and Bruce having a clone created by The Court of Owls, and thus an idea germinated. He may pop up in future fics, I don't know. 
> 
> Meanwhile, enjoy this little fic that expands on the previous fic 'Conversations'. You don't need to have read that one in order to enjoy this one but read it anyway. You might like it.
> 
> There's some swearing in it because Richie has a mouth like a sailor.

Richie sighed as he unlocked the storage space he rented to use as a workspace. After intense training, he liked to unwind by either puttering around the small greenhouse he kept on the roof of the apartment building, or he’d go here and work on restoring some old trinkets and tools to later resell. 

He’d become quite good at it. A lot of the times he would restore old weapons like knives and swords and axes which time had nearly reduced to rusty junk. But, with a little time and care, he was able to restore them back to working order. 

“It always comes down to bladed weapons,” he thought to himself. He can’t seem to escape from them. But, at least this time he was making them and making them like new again instead of using them for their intended purposes like he once had.

He tries not to think too much of his time spent as one of the Talons used by the Court of Owls for their nefarious purposes. In spite of the fact that he was solely created for just that reason, using the DNA they acquired from Dick Grayson, who they had actually wanted. He tried not to think of how they had laid hands upon Dick’s DNA, and he was never told because it wasn’t important for him to know. All he ever had to know was how to kill and fight and some perfunctory knowledge like reading, writing, how to make and repair his bladed weapons, how to blend into shadows, martial arts, acrobatics, first aid in case his healing factor didn’t kick in in time. 

Once he made the choice to no longer be a Talon and leave, the Court had made it their mission to either drag him back and put him back into stasis or try to get their hands on Dick. As it turns out, they decided they wanted Dick, their original target. 

They almost succeeded too. Luckily, the memory modifications they implanted into Dick’s brain to make him forget who he was after his parents died and he took the persona of Ric Grayson and his own memories resurfaced and he made the choice to leave, but not without a fight. 

Richie lent a hand of course. After all, didn’t he have the best knowledge on how to fight off the Talon also known as William Cobb AKA Dick’s great-grandfather? In the end, it was Ric’s, or rather Dick’s, choice. He took some time, to sort things out with the help of the memories Barbara Gordon had acquired, to find out what was real and what wasn’t. 

Things had pretty much been up in the air since then. So, Richie gave him the space he needed. Blüdhaven almost burnt to the ground in the meantime, but things were starting to come back together again, as they almost always had. 

Richie heard someone come up behind him. His heightened hearing told him exactly who it was. In spite of the stealth he knew they were experienced in, some things didn’t escape him.

“Dropping by for a visit, or do you need something?” he said without bothering to stop what he was doing. He heard a slight chuckle behind him.

“Still can’t sneak up on you, can I?” the voice said.

Richie let a small chuckle escape, “Nope. Nice try though.”

He turned around and he may as well have been looking in a mirror. 

“How’s it going, Ric? Or is it Dick again?”

There was a smile. “It’s Dick again. Once I got my head sorted, I went back to the name everyone knows me as, even my parents called me that, now that my memories have fallen back into place again.”

Richie shook his head. Even though the two of them looked exactly alike in appearance, there were minor differences between them. Such as the fact that Richie kept his hair much longer, past his shoulders in smooth cascades of inky strands, and Dick’s hair was still growing in from when it was shaved off during his stay in the hospital. It was almost as long as it had been before he was shot. There were also subtle differences in their builds. Richie was leaner, more like a ballet dancer, where Dick had a bit of a broader build, like a gymnast. The copious black and grey tattoos Richie had over his arms and the various piercings he had were also minor signs. The Court had done an excellent job in the cloning process, even if it had taken them eight tries to perfect it. 

Once he was freed from the Court, his personality began to emerge more and more. Where Dick was an extrovert and thrived in public situations, Richie was more of an introvert and preferred alone time to decompress. He was somewhat quicker to anger than Dick was and had a harder time trusting people, but that was an attribute of his having been created and genetically enhanced by the Court. His prowess with bladed weapons was nearly unparalleled as well as his balletic martial arts movements, which was evident when he just walked across a room.

“That was one thing that had never made sense to me, the insistence on being called Richard when even your parents had called you Dick. That should’ve been the first thing to tip me off. But then, the Court liked to play things close to the vest and us as Talons were only told what we needed to know to do our jobs, so it was a need-to-know sort of thing,” Richie explained.

Dick moved into the storage space Richie used as his workshop. Richie didn’t mind so much. Most of the time, his workshop was a sacred space, but Dick had let him live in his extra apartment once he was free from the influence of the Court and able to make decisions for himself. Who was he to say no to the man who had helped him out, even though he was under no obligation to do so? Even though he was ordered to take him out? 

“A lot of things didn’t make sense if either one of us were to think about it too hard,” Dick answered. “I had a lot of things to answer to, and so I felt I should make the rounds as it were. I already talked to Bruce and everybody else, letting them know what’s going on inside of my head now. Especially Babs. I feel like I hurt her the worst.”

Richie shrugged, “She’s strong. She knows how these things go. She’s no stranger to life-altering injuries and the impact they can on the people who care for those who are injured.

There was a long pause.

Dick cleared his throat, “So, Babs and I have decided to start dating.”

Richie eyed him curiously. “Oh? Well, it’s about damn time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Richie snorted and turned around to lean against his workbench. “Please. Everyone can see how the two of you feel about one another. You’ve been doing this same dance for, what is it, five years now? Since you were both sixteen?”

Dick looked flabbergasted. “How would you know? You’ve only been around for two years?!”

Richie rolled his eyes at the man he was cloned from. “Cass told me all about it. It’s blatantly obvious. It’s written all over your face every time you talk about her. You look at her like she hung the moon.”

“ _Cass_ knows?! Who else knows?!”

Richie nodded, “Yep. We all do.” He started counting on his fingers. “Bruce, Alfred, me, Jason, Tim, Duke, and Damian. Hell, I bet even the dog knows.”

Dick groaned, “Great, just great.”

“Jason even had a bet going as to how long it would take the two of you to finally admit your feelings for one another. I won, by the way. Twenty bucks.”

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. Had the two of them always been that obvious?

Richie’s voice broke his thoughts.

“Why did you change your mind, by the way? I know you said you were wary of starting up anything with Barbs.”

“I guess after everything that happened, with the shooting, the memory loss, the Ric thing, and the whole mess with Cobb and the Court of Owls, I guess I just decided enough was enough,” Dick said. “I was tired of being afraid of what _might_ happen. I didn’t want to lose what I already had with Babs, our friendship means too much to me. I mean, I’ve had sex with women I wasn’t in a relationship with, but I didn’t want to do that with her. She’s special. And I know she’s had her own trauma to deal with as well and I didn’t want to push anything. It’s gotten to the point where it’s now or never. I didn’t want there to be a never.”

Richie nods, “That makes sense. I mean, all those other women, you may have liked them, or even loved them, but you weren’t _in love_ with them. You’ve been in love with Barbs for a long time, it’s just you never acted on it. The timing wasn’t right or whatever. I felt like knocking your heads together more than once.”

Dick smiled, “Yeah, I suppose you have a point there. We’re both pretty stubborn I suppose.”

Richie rolled his eyes, “More than stubborn, I’d say. I’m just glad the two of you got your shit together long enough to do this thing. Let’s face it, no one is as compatible with you as much as she is. We all think so.”

Dick grimaced. “Has my love life always been a talking point with everyone?!”

“Pretty much, yeah. Basically on how stupid the two of you were being.”

Dick glanced over at the filming setup by the workbench.

“What’s with the camera?”

Richie looked over to where he was pointing. “Oh. That. I’ve been filming the restorations I’ve been doing and uploading them to YouTube. Restoration videos are pretty popular, surprisingly. I’ve been getting a lot of views from women, oddly enough. I wasn’t aware restoration videos were all that popular among women. And some of the comments they leave are a little… risque. I wonder why?”

Dick arched an eyebrow, “Yeah. I wonder why.”

Richie looked at him quizzically. 

“Huh?”

“Do any of these videos show your face?” Dick asked.

Richie shrugged, “I guess some of them do.”

“Yep, that would explain it.”

Richie pulled out his phone. “I mean, one said ‘I’d like him to bend me over that workbench.’ What does that even mean? I also got one that says ‘I wonder what else he can do with his hands.’”

Dick sighed, “Yeah, sorry about that. I should’ve warned you stuff like that might happen. I’d say you get used to it, but you never really do.”

“What are you apologizing for? It’s not your fault. I mean, yeah I look exactly like you, but I can think of worse things to have to deal with than people coming onto me all of the time. In fact, I have. The curse of being a former assassin.”

Dick grimaced slightly. “About that, I wanted to thank you for helping me out with the whole Cobb situation. I know you want to leave that life behind, and you’ve done a good job at it.”

Richie shrugged, “It wasn’t any trouble at all. If anyone knows what goes on in the Court of Owls, it’s yours truly. I should be thanking you. I mean, if not for you and the gang taking me in after I defected, I’d still be with them, doing things I’m not proud of. I was just a poor substitute, really. They wanted you, and when they couldn’t get you, they made me. When I left, I guess that’s when they decided to try for you again. So, I’m sorry you had to deal with all of that.”

Dick moved over to a stool in the corner of the storage shed and sat down. “Well, sometimes we can’t choose our own blood, especially when the only blood family you have are deadly assassins. I also wanted to thank you for not pressuring me when I wasn’t… myself. You just let me try to work things out on my own. I do appreciate you offering me a place to crash and clean up, especially when I was squatting and stuff.”

“Well, it’s still your apartment, even though it’s technically in my name,” Richie replied.

“And it’s yours for as long as you need, I mean that,” Dick said.

“Thanks, man.”

“Sure thing.”

Dick nodded over to a table in the middle of the workshop, “What are you working on next?”

Richie walked over to the object in question, “That, my friend, is an old cabinet sewing machine. A client wants me to fix it up as a gift. Hense the recording equipment. I figured it’d make for a good video.”

Richie paused, “I always meant to ask. It doesn’t feel… weird having me live next door? I mean, I’m your genetically engineered clone. I know we’ve been passing me off as a long-lost brother, but knowing where I came from, why I was created… it doesn’t weird you out any?”

Dick scratched at the skin above his left eyebrow. “To be honest, it did at first. I mean, you’re not the first double of me I’ve ever come across or even fought against. Granted, you are the first one I’ve ever made friends with and have live next to me. After a while, I got used to you being around. You’re only exactly like me in looks. Everything else about you is strictly you. You’ve managed to make a name for yourself, even if all you did was switch mine around. Having you know about my ‘side job’ is a bonus, which is the main reason I let you stay in the other apartment to start with. Plus, I like your cooking.”

Richie laughed, “Well if you didn’t subsist entirely on cereal, you might pick up a few things.”

Dick chuckled, “Seeing as I’m usually too tired to fix anything else, it tends to work out in my favor that you can cook.”

They both laughed.

“Maybe you and Barbs can have some meals together sometimes,” Richie added.

“Maybe we can,” Dick agreed.

Richie went back to the workbench and sorted out his tools. 

“Are you going to go back to being Nightwing again, or are you going to do something else?” he asked.

Dick shrugged, “I dunno yet. I mean, the city needs Nightwing, especially since the group of Nightwings isn’t any longer. I still have to retrain myself back to where I was before I can even put the costume back on again.”

“Are you going to have the same costume you had? I think B still has it, minus the bloodstains of course.”

Dick inwardly cringed a little over the fact his suit had his blood on it. 

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Richie shrugged, “That’s fine. No pressure. Things are OK right now, so no rush or anything…” his voice trailed off.

“It’s OK to talk about it. It’s not a sore subject for me. Deep down, I know it’s a part of who I am, and the memory manipulation made things a little muddled for me for a bit. But, defending the city makes me feel needed and I like feeling needed I suppose. I guess it took me being away from it for a while to really appreciate that.”

Dick paused. Richie knew enough about his mannerisms to know he was deep in thought, so he didn’t interrupt him. There was a lot on his mind since everything, so it only made sense that Dick was a little more contemplative lately.

“The thing I don’t understand, why me? I mean, the Court has all of the other Talons, including you and Calvin at one point. Why did they need me?”

Richie shrugged, “I think it was more of Cobb’s obsession than the Court’s. He had this thing about blood legacy and some shit like that. The Gray Son of Gotham or what have you. Your grandpa and your dad didn’t have fuck all to do with any of it, so I guess he figured it’d be you. Didn’t plan on you being adopted by a multi-billionaire with a bat fetish. Hell, even when the Court made me with your DNA, it still wasn’t good enough for him. Whatever, man. He’s got problems that run deep. Talons aren’t known for their stability. Luckily I got deprogrammed or else I’d be in the same boat. Same with Cal.”

Richie paused to clear his throat, “Dick, you are the ultimate prize. Not only are you a world-class acrobat, but you’ve also been trained by one of the best-costumed crime fighters there is, and if the Court is known for anything, it’s wanting the very best. Hands down, the Court is a cult, and they will do whatever they think is necessary to get what they want. We were nothing but tools, and when you’re an organization like the Court of Owls, you want the very best tool and weapon in your arsenal. They felt cheated because Bruce took you in. It’s why I grew eyes in the back of my head. They created me as the ultimate weapon when they couldn’t have you. But, to them, I was still only second best.”

Dick’s eyes flicked down to his feet. Richie could tell he felt a bit embarrassed. He had always been pretty modest about his abilities, and hearing Richie call him ‘elite’ and ‘top-tier’ always made him a little abashed. He’d been called a better Batman than Batman at one time. 

Richie quickly made to assuage the situation to try and ease Dick’s embarrassment.

“I mean, you should be proud of what you’ve accomplished! For not being a meta-human with no genetic enhancements, it’s a world-class feat in such a short period of time. Be proud of that, and fuck the Court. They’re nothing more than well-funded religious zealots. You live your life the way you choose. And being able to break free from them, takes guts and a lot of willpower. Take it from me, it’s hard to break free of their clutches, not without a lot of damage. You’re stronger than people give you credit for.”

Dick smirked, “That’s what Babs said.”

Richie nodded, “Smart gal, that Barbs.”

Richie moved across the room before Dick could register what was going on and wrapped him in a warm embrace.

Dick grunted in surprise, “What’s that for?”

“I’m just glad you’re back. I kinda missed you, you big oaf,” came the reply, choked with emotion.

Dick chuckled and returned the embrace. “I missed you guys too.”

Richie pulled away, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “Sorry to get all mushy on you, man. It just felt a little lonely without you being right next door. I guess I hadn’t realized how close we’ve become.”

Dick smiled and placed his hands on Richie’s shoulders. “It’s OK. I’m used to having emotionally stunted brothers hanging around.”

Richie chuckled and clapped Dick on the back.

“So, are you and Barbs taking it to the next level, or are you gonna pussyfoot around each other again?”

Dick sat back down on the stool. “Well, I don’t know what you mean by next level, but we’re not rushing into anything if that’s what you’re not too subtly asking. You need to stop hanging around Jason so much. He’s a bad influence.”

“This thing you have with Barbs, it’s real. Those other women? They might’ve been nice, and a nice distraction, but they’re not who you really wanted. It’s always been Barbs. You two had a lot of shit going on and sometimes that pushes important things to the wayside. But, if you don’t have love, then everything else isn’t worth anything,” Richie said, conviction behind his voice.

“You really think so?”

“Yep, I know so. We should all be so lucky as the two of you. I mean, think about it. You are masked crimefighters, both of you are at the peak of human physical athleticism, you know each others’ secret identities, you’ve known each other for years, you’re both hella intelligent, and you’re both hot as hell. You have this bond that’s formed between you that a lot of people envy. And if you both fuck this up, you’re stupider than I would’ve thought.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Dick said wryly.

“What’re clones for?” Richie replied.

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Did you talk to Bea any?” Richie finally asked.

Dick’s expression changed slightly. “Yeah, I spoke to her. I explained as much as I could. I mean, she’s still shaken from Cobb kidnapping her and then I had to tell her I wasn’t Ric anymore, the guy she fell for. She was pretty understanding about it, in spite of everything.”

“Bea’s a good egg. She’s pretty tough. She’s had a pretty hard life, so she’s got a lot of steel in her. I might not go back to the bar any time soon, though.”

Dick chuckled, “Yeah, I think my bar fly days are done. Alcohol doesn’t sit well with me.”

“It’s like that with a lot of people. Hell, I can’t even get drunk. I just like the taste,” Richie told him, nodding slightly.

Dick looked up from where he was sitting. “Hey, you have any free time? Wanna get a pizza at that place around the corner we like? Like old times?”

Richie smiled. “Yeah, that sounds good. Lemme lock up and we can go. Maybe call Barbs and see if she wants a slice. I promise I won’t be a third wheel.”

Dick stood and walked over to the door while Richie put things away. “How about just the two of us? Two brothers catching up, like regular people.”

Richie laughed. 

“Yeah, that sounds pretty good. You’re paying though.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked. For more info about Richie, I made a dossier, which can be read [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jPcmlapqB95xgGx-uwVCzPckfFdu_VNCpWDvR47T01I/edit?usp=sharing).
> 
> I wanted to keep it as canon-compliant as I could, but some liberties may have been taken for plot reasons. 
> 
> Also, I headcanon that no one but Dick and the Commish are allowed to call Barbara Babs.


End file.
